


Miscommunication

by peggy_hamilton



Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, deaf!Peter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2020-01-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:28:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22191814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peggy_hamilton/pseuds/peggy_hamilton
Summary: You and Peter get partnered up for a school project. However there's a bit of a language barrier.
Relationships: Peter Parker/You
Kudos: 39





	Miscommunication

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted on my tumblr justthinkingofwaystoavoidbusses
> 
> original request: Deaf Spiderman - @autisticnoahfoster

A new school year, another year in hell. With a weary sigh you let your bag drop to the floor and you fell into your seat, slowly the other kids began to fill in and take their seats all around you. Summer had seemed to stretch on for ages but now you were back it was as if you had never been away in the first place, most of the others in your class looked the same - a few haircuts here and there, some of the guys had another growth spurt and were even taller and louder than before.

It was looking to another boring year with everything the same, that was until the new kid walked in. You went to a small local school so it wasn’t very often that you got new students in the older years, this was definitely something new and interesting. The boy looked around the classroom for a second before he spotted an empty seat somewhere behind you and began to walk towards it. “Hi,” you greeted cheerfully as he walked past, you knew it must be difficult for him starting somewhere new so you wanted to be nice and friendly.

Except the fact that he walked right past you and didn’t even spare you a glance.

You frowned and turned around in your seat to watch him settled down a few desks behind you, you huffed and faced the front. Welp, that was the last time you tried to do something nice.

Soon the teacher came in and set down his laptop, “Welcome back to school, I’m sure you’re all thrilled to be here,” he said dryly as he set up. “We have a new student this year, Peter Parker.” All eyes in the class turned round to face him and he gave a small, awkward wave from his desk. “I’m sure you’ll all make him feel welcome,” the teacher continued and you rolled your eyes - like he would even appreciate it if you did.

The teacher took the register then began explaining the project you would all be working on in the upcoming weeks, you hated science so you were glad to hear it would be done in pairs. You hoped you got a chance to be partnered up with someone who understood it, not so they could do all the work because you would do your fair share, just because otherwise you would have no clue.

“I will decide the pairs,” you heard the teacher say and you had to resist the urge to groan loudly, others in the class did no such thing.

Names were being called out from all around you and you watched in horror as everyone you had hoped to get paired with was partnered off, and if you were keeping track right the amount of people left was dwindling and this was about to get a whole lot worse. “Y/N and Peter,” you closed your eyes for a few seconds as that sunk in.

“Fucking great,” you mumbled under your breath and turned in your seat to look at Peter, he gave you a small smile which you did not return. Just your luck, get paired with the new guy who already ignored you today.

It became clear that he was not moving so you got up and angrily grabbed your back and joined him at the back of the classroom, he didn’t seem to notice your harsh mood, or if he did he didn’t say anything. You looked forlornly over at the seat you usually sat in, it was so much more comfier than the one you were forced to sit in now and you could look out the window, but here it was cold and the seat legs were uneven. Wasn’t this a brilliant way to start the new year?

You slumped in your seat and faced forward as the teacher began to go over the topic you would have to make a diorama for, you didn’t understand a word that he was saying. Something caught your eye and you looked to see Peter handing you a small piece of folded white paper, you took it hesitantly and unfolded it and looked down at the messy handwriting.

Don’t worry, they already did this topic at my old school so I know all about it

You squinted at the note, unsure of what to make of it. On one hand it was a good thing he seemed to know what he was doing, on the other hand why had he written you the note? Why didn’t he just wait to tell you afterwards, maybe it was because he didn’t want to actually speak to you? Fine, if he wanted to act all high and mighty, two could play at that game. You didn’t even have to talk to him at all for the project at this rate, not that that was a bad thing.

Okay.

You passed the note back to him, tossed it at his desk really. You didn’t even want to look at him.

—

Everyone was meant to start working on the project that lesson, Peter had produced a large pad of lined paper that the two of you were currently scribbling on instead of talking. He seemed to be taking the lead, he could write a lot faster than you so he was able to get more ideas down than you. Though, you had to admit, he was patient in waiting for you to write.

The lesson was coming to an end which was a relief because your wrist was cramping, We should meet up to finish this outside of school, you saw him write quickly before you could go.

You knew he was right, there wouldn’t be enough time or resources to get it done purely in lessons and you didn’t want to go to his house or the library which left you with one option. With a sigh you picked up the pen and wrote down your address and told him to come by at five, then you left the class quickly.

—

Much to your dismay the bell rang promptly at five and you opened it to see Peter standing there, “Come in,” you huffed and stepped aside.

Once again he didn’t reply to you and moved through to the dining room, “Sure, make yourself at home,” you grumbled and followed after him. He set his back down and began to pull out various arts and crafts supplies as well as the large paper pad you had been talking with before.

“Ugh, we’re still using the pad?” you complained but received no reply, you rolled your eyes and sat next to him.

So, how are we doing this?

He noticed you writing and picked up the pen after you were done. You got any old cereal boxes we can use?

—

Any and all conversations you had with Peter were through the pad, you got used to it and it barely even registered as an annoyance when he pulled it out. You didn’t even realise that you had never heard him speak.

The project was almost done, Peter would always come round to your house and help you make it whilst you scribbled down your side to the conversation. Oftentimes you would find yourself going off topic between breaks, you told each other basic information about your lives and he would even slip in a few jokes. You found yourself actually liking him, you still thought he was a prick for not actually trying to talk to you properly but with that set aside he seemed like an alright guy. Plus, he was fairly attractive. Not that you would admit that out loud.

Sorry about your wrist, he wrote down one afternoon and you frowned at him in confusion. He pointed with the pen to your wrist which you were currently massaging from the ache of writing so much, I know this isn’t the most convenient way of communication, but I can’t lip read.

What do you mean?

I’m assuming you don’t know sign language, you felt your heart stop and you looked up to see him smirking as if he had said something comical. His smile dropped when he saw your startled face, What’s wrong?

Shakily you plucked up the pen and paused before you write anything down.

You’re deaf.

Yes?

“Oh fuck,” you breathed and ran a hand over your face. Boy had you royally fucked up. Suddenly, every interaction you had with Peter came rushing back over you in a moment of clarity. All those times he had ignored you wasn’t because he was a prick it was because he was deaf, he wrote on a pad as it was literally the only way the two of you could talk not because he didn’t want to talk to you. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you swore louder now, mortified.

I can’t lip read but I know you’re saying fuck. What’s wrong?

I didn’t realise you were deaf, you admitted.

Peter looked at you strangely, How? We’ve been talking on paper for two weeks???

I didn’t think it was because you were deaf!

What did you think!?

That you were just being a prick and you didn’t want to actually talk to me

Peter looked over what you had written again and again. You were sure that he was going to leave or get rightfully angry at you, instead he burst out into uncontrollable laughter.

What’s so funny? You wrote quickly.

He picked up the pen and wiped a few tears and replied, Everything, his body shook with a few laughs before he settled down.

You’re not mad?

No. I guess it’s my own fault, I didn’t tell you because I assumed the teacher would have mentioned it to the class when I first came here. I guess he did not. In fact, I assumed everybody knew.

No. At least I don’t think they do.

Interesting.

So you’re really not mad?

Nah.

—

After that you realised that you actually liked Peter, with all the other negative misconceptions you had about him proven wrong you could now see that he was just a genuinely sweet and funny guy. Which was also a bad thing for you because now when you saw him your heart did somersaults, so maybe you had developed a teeny tiny massive fucking crush on him.

Your project had come to an end much sooner than you would have like but that didn’t stop you and Peter hanging out together. Writing was becoming a bit of a bane and you realised that you couldn’t continue on like this for the rest of your lives (or however long you knew him), it just wasn’t practical.

It was the end of the day and you were waiting for Peter to finish packing his bag, all the other kids had long since left the classroom. You bit your lip and fiddled with your fingers nervously, when he finally looked up and gave you a smile you felt your heart stop. This was it. The moment of truth.

Do you want to come to my house for dinner? You signed very slowly, not wanting to mess up.

Peter looked at you in shock and awe. He began signing incredibly fast and you were unable to keep up.

What? You signed at him.

Peter blushed and looked down sheepishly, When did you learn to sign? He asked, you realised that he must be signing a lot slower than he was used to for you to understand.

I’ve been watching youtube classes, you signed, frowning in concentration as you tried to remember how to sign each word, I’m not very good at it, sorry, you shrugged a little.

Peter shook his head, It’s great. Thank you, he pulled you into an unexpected hug and you melted in his arms and hugged him back tightly.

—

You began to watch more sign language classes on the internet and Peter helped you learn the more difficult phrases, slang, and of course the swear words.

Fairly soon you were able to hold basic conversations at what you knew must be a painfully slow rate for Peter but he always insisted that he didn’t mind. You still used the paper pad to talk about the more complex stuff that you had no idea how to say in sign language, but other than that you tried really hard how to say it in ASL.

A few months later you had come along pretty decently, ordinary everyday things you could sign almost as fast as Peter and the more difficult things only took a bit longer. Now that you could talk more easily it became harder with each passing day to ignore your feelings for him, it was eating you up inside and you needed to do something about it. You were facing each other on his sofa, you took a deep breath and signed.

Can I confess something?

Sure, what?

I’m not sure how to say this exactly.

Take your time.

Lately. For a few months, really. I’ve had feelings for you.

Feelings? His eyes widened.

You swallowed and nodded, A crush really. I don’t want to stop being your friend, but I thought you needed to know.

You have a crush on me?

You nodded, Is that okay?

Peter didn’t respond and you dropped your gaze to your lap, he reached out and cupped your cheek and forced you to look at him. He looked into you eyes for a few seconds then leaned forward and kissed you gently, it took a second for you to kiss back but your eyes slipped shut and you let him take control. It only lasted a few seconds, it was short and sweet but you were tingly all over.

Yes, it’s okay, he signed sloppily, seemingly dazed from the kiss himself.

You giggled and smiled wide, Good.


End file.
